


Wasting Time

by TerryJune



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, F/M, Fitzsimmons wedding, Fluff, Gen, Phil & May Talk...kind of, Philinda - Freeform, Team Feels, because feels, but there are some song lyrics, not a songfic, season 5, the real deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 15:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18853879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerryJune/pseuds/TerryJune
Summary: "Who I waste my time on is for me to decide."'Phil reached into his pocket and produced two clear bottles.“Zima?” May tilted her head, accepting the malt beverage.He shrugged, hesitancy pulling at the corner of his lips, “I asked Deke to try and find a bottle of Haige; this is what he brought back instead.”May and Phil talk during the wedding reception; what has been, what is, and what lay ahead.There is no way that they didn't talk / do more after the conversation we saw in the episode!Warm and fuzzy appearances from the rest of the team.Canon compliant.





	Wasting Time

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after the final scenes of The Real Deal (5x12, ep 100).

“I got it, I got it!.” Daisy held her phone in one hand, and a small speaker in the other, “Everyone back up, make some space!” 

“Ah, no...we dun…” Fitz shifted on his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Jemma rolled her eyes and pulled on his other hand, “Yes, we do.  It’s our wedding day and you, Leopold James Fitz, are going to dance with me.”

The grin on Daisy’s face only grew as she pressed play, her two friends beginning to sway along to the simple guitar riff.

In contrast, May felt her own smile dimming as she looked around the ragtag gathering.  It was a beautiful moment, and she agreed with Phil that to wait was just tempting fate, but she couldn’t help but feel these two deserved more than a thrift shop dress and no frills ceremony. 

 _…I won't give up on us_  
Even if the skies get rough  
I'm giving you all my love  
I'm still looking up

_And when you're needing your space_  
To do some navigating  
I'll be here patiently waiting… 

Taking a minute to listen to the song Daisy had selected, May exhaled; it was certainly appropriate.  The fact that they had ever arrived at this moment was a testament to the perseverance of the two newlyweds.  _“Remarkably resilient”_ Phil had once commented about Jemma back during their first months as a team.

He didn’t know how right he was. 

The woman dancing in the clearing was hardly the same girl who had joined them on the bus, and certainly neither was Fitz.  They had been through too much trauma and heartbreak and tumults of life to not be changed.

As May ruminated on the difference 5 years could make, Fitz leaned close to whisper something in Jemma’s ear and she laughed, slapping him lightly on the chest, rolling her eyes.  His responding grin was full of mirth and pride at provoking such a reaction.  For a fraction of a moment, May could see shadows of who they once were. 

 _I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily_  
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make  
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use  
the tools and gifts we've got yeah we got a lot at stake

 _And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend_  
for us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn  
 

Someone was humming along to the song and May didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know Phil was probably rocking on the balls of his feet, keeping time with the tune.

She gave a quiet huff, “You know Jason Mraz?” She whispered, not turning around but leaning back slightly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you dance.” His reply was equally quiet, next to her ear. 

She looked to him out of the corner of her eyes.  The truth was, she complained about dancing because he expected her to, but she never _really_ minded the opportunity to step and spin in tandem.  She shifted her weight, if her leg didn’t ache she might have been tempted to surprise him, pulling him out during the next song.  

But it had been a long day and her body was making it clear that the tear in her thigh was far from healed.  She grimaced, recalling Daisy’s blunt words; _“May is never going to be full strength whether you’ll admit it or not…”_  

A quiet shift in breath at her side had her gut clenching as she remembered the morning’s argument and how it had ended; watching Phil struggle first for words and then for breath, collapsing with no evident cause.  

How had he kept it from them?  From her?  How hadn’t she seen it? 

May turned her head enough to see Phil’s focus on the young couple still swaying on the grass, Mac circling to capture it on camera.  

 _…No I won't give up on us_  
God knows I've had enough  
We got a lot to learn  
And we're, and we're worthy

_No I won't give up  
No I won't give up_

He was giving up. The anger and grief pulled at her and she looked away, focusing on the light reflecting off the waterfall.

As the slow song faded out, Daisy futzed with her phone until a more up-tempo beat poured from the speaker, the younger members of the team laughing in recognition of some shared joke or meaning.  Jemma was gesturing for everyone to join her and Fitz in dancing, Pepper pulling on Davis and some of the other new arrivals while Daisy corralled Deke and Mike.

For a moment the young woman's eyes turned to May and Coulson, clearly intending for them to join but something stopped her mid gesture.  Daisy stood, eyes locked with Coulson, an indecipherable look on her face. 

After a beat of time she nodded and turned back to the make shift dance floor, soliciting requests for the next songs.

May looked over her shoulder to Phil whose eyes were on her.  With a tilt of his head he gestured away from the dancers. Without hesitation she followed him to an outcropping of boulders at the edge of the pond. 

“Looked like you could use a seat.” He offered quietly, lowering himself down to sit back against the rock and looking up at her, eyebrows arched.

She clenched her jaw. Not because he was wrong, he wasn’t. But she was still trying to get a hold on the day’s revelations and she didn’t need another blunt reminder of her new physical weakness.

The ambiguous grin slipped from Phil’s face.  “I know you’re…mad or….but…” His lips rolled as he bit his tongue in search of the words.  After a beat he looked up at her with insistent eyes, “Can you just not be?  For today?”

Laughter echoed across the clearing and May closed her eyes, taking a moment to absorb the sound.  It had been a long time since there had been anything to laugh or smile about and something told her this moment was only a temporary reprieve. 

Opening her eyes, Phil was still there, staring back at her, steady and unwavering. 

She wanted to sit, to take in the joyful celebration and appreciate the fresh air, sunshine on her face.  If she was honest with herself, she wanted to lean against him, take a break from worrying about the world and talk about all they had never said.

Maybe he knew what she was thinking, maybe he just wanted to break the silence, but Phil reached into his pocket and produced two clear bottles.

 “Zima?” May tilted her head, accepting the malt beverage.

He shrugged, hesitancy pulling at the corner of his lips, “I asked Deke to try and find a bottle of Haige; this is what he brought back instead.”

May was moving before she even acknowledged she was giving in.  Phil was offering a bridge and she was tired of standing alone.

Mindful of her thigh, she lowered herself to the moss, leaning against the exposed granite, shoulder not quite touching his.  When she looked at him he was smiling, lips still closed but eyes light.

He reached toward her with his bottle and she reciprocated, clinking the glass in a silent toast, leaning further back as she sipped.

“This really isn’t very good.” Phil muttered pulling the bottle away and examining the label.  “Do we even know what’s in it?”

“Not scotch.” May muttered, taking another sip.

He huffed a chuckle and mirrored her action, taking a longer draw from the bottle. 

The two veteran agents sat in familiar and comfortable silence, watching what remained of their agency dance and laugh and forget the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Phil took a long inhale and May looked up to see him, eyes closed, face turned to the sun. 

“You know,” He started quietly, “I’m glad Deke is around if for no reason other than this forest.”

May smirked, “Nice of you to relish someone else’s deepest fear.”

"Eh.” He opened his eyes and looked back at her with a smirk, “Nobody’s perfect.”

She looked him over, the wedding celebration feeling much further away than it actually was, providing a bubble of intimate privacy, “You going to tell me what you saw down there?”

He stared at her for a long moment, smirk forcibly frozen in place before looking aside with a harsh sniff, taking a quick sip from his bottle of Zima.

May pressed her tongue against the inside of her teeth, internally debating how hard to push.

“I could guess.” She decided to try, “If I had to imagine the manifestation of your greatest fear, I’d guess Hive.”

He turned back to her, molars clenched.  A short nod of confirmation, “He was there.”

May frowned at being right. Hive, or more accurately, the regretful choices that surrounded him, haunted Phil, but his tone suggested that the monster was hardly the primary obstacle.

She allowed her eyes to trail over him; body tense, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, a slight tremor in his breath as his gaze remained unfocused, straight ahead.

“I…” He paused, grimacing, looking to her over his shoulder, eyes wide, “Turns out my greatest fear is that this isn’t real.”

 “What?” She blinked. “Like…we’re still in the framework?”

 He shifted, hands clenching the bottle, shoulders tightening, “No.” He looked away, shaking his head, “That…” He pulled his lip between his teeth and swallowed, “There was no TAHITI project; I didn’t survive Loki’s attack on the helicarrier.  That this, all of you…” His focus moved to the youngest members of his team, “The last 6 years have been some instantaneous fever dream where I get to live out regrets never experienced." He clenched his teeth and turned back to her, "I’m just bleeding out in some trauma bay.”

May felt her jaw drop. She had no response. She could hardly even process what he had just bared to her. 

Closing her eyes for a beat she took in a rough breath before looking back at him, leaning forward to catch his eye, “ _Phil_ – you know that’s not true; right?”

He looked back to her with a weak smile, “I don’t know May; we’ve certainly seen enough to know reality is subjective.”

He leaned back again, “And think about it; everything we talked about back in the day?  Having our own team where we called the shots without red tape?  Having a chance to run everything our way?  What we would have done differently if we were there at the very beginning of SHIELD…Having people to call family...  You and me, working together past when we should have rightly been retired from the field?” He huffed, “Hell, you being back in the field at all, kicking ass and enjoying it is something I wanted for a long time before New York.”

He bit on his lip, “The hardest part about dying is letting go of the life you’ve yet to live. As crazy as these past years have been, it’s everything I would have wanted.”  His eyes locked to hers, uncertain, “Doesn’t that seem at least a little odd?”

May had to remind herself to breath.  He was being serious.  Phil was being serious about fearing this life wasn’t real. 

She sure as hell felt real.  This rock under her ass felt real.  The hole in her leg felt real.  The throbbing of the bruise on her face felt real.  If she was only a figment of his dying brain would she feel any of that?

She shook her head, “Phil. Stop and think.” She waited for him to meet her eyes, “If this were just your imagination would you create a reality where…where…” She grasped for something, eyes flicking to Mike Peterson, “Where Hydra lived in SHIELD?  Where one of your oldest friends and a team member ended up turning against us?  Would you have thought up a reality where Daisy had to watch her father kill her mother?  Or where Jemma was transported across the universe for 6 months?”  

She felt her heart rate speed up and she reached out, grabbing his arm, “Where you had a hand chopped off, lost Rosalind, killed Ward, nearly lost Daisy?  Would you have possibly imagined what happened to Andrew?  The framework?  Would you create a reality where you had to sacrifice yourself in order to stop an unstoppable robot turned inhuman?” 

She tightened her hold, “I know this life is real because there’s been too much pain, Phil.  These last few years have not been some fantasy cruise of the good ol’ days.  The pain sucks, but it’s how I know we’re _alive_ ; that this is all _real_ and worth fighting for.”

He looked at her, digesting her words, face steady and neutral. 

“Yeah…” He whispered after felt like too long of a time.

“Yeah what?” She tilted her head, “You believe me?”

He looked up from the drink in his hand, jaw tense as his eyes drifted over her face, methodically moving from her hair to her chin.  He exhaled, “There are definitely things about this reality that I certainly don’t think I’d willingly create.”

His gaze didn’t break and May shifted, feeling the weight behind his pronouncement but sensing she was missing some important subtext.  She tried to study his expression, but he turned away, taking another long drink.

They sat in tense silence, watching as the wedding celebration began to wind down with the setting sun, starting with Mac announcing he was going to check in on Elena; followed slowly by the rest of the group trickling back to the elevator until it was just them two, FitzSimmons and Daisy.

The three younger agents spent some time sitting on their own outcropping of rocks, heads close together and voices low.

Fondness was clear on Phil’s face as he kept an eye on the people who had become family over the last several years.  If May were a hitch less restrained she’d be inclined to lay a hand on his back, a physical connection to share the moment. 

It wasn’t long before the others stood and approached, exuding the buoyancy of celebration; the ever-present pressures of their reality not present on any of their faces.

“Sir, I just…” Jemma’s eyes were moist as she stepped close with a bright smile, hands clasped at her chin, “…Thank you _so much_.  This was so lovely.”

Phil smiled softly back, remaining seated, “It was absolutely my pleasure.”

“And May, thank you for the…” She gestured to her dress which May had helped fit and pin.  “I really…” She took a deep breath, “If my mother couldn’t be here, I’m glad that you were.”

May felt her heart clench in her chest.  She opened her mouth but found herself completely lacking for words.  From the corner of her eye she could tell Phil was watching her, a smug grin firmly in place.

“You’ll share it with her soon.” She managed, reaching to squeeze Simmons’ hand.

Phil settled back, tilting his head to Fitz, “Do we have any idea what to expect with this place?  Is it stable?  Are we okay if we stay here for a while?”

Fitz bit his lip, glancing around the forest, “Uh…well…I…uh, dunno…” He shrugged, “The dimension is patched, but…uh…I mean…” He scratched the back of his head, “It’s been okay so far…” He looked to the elevator, “If it collapses it’ll just be a storage room.”

“Like having your own personal forest hideaway, Coulson?” Daisy smirked.

“Better than the back seat of an SUV.” He volleyed back the reminder of her frequent hiding spot during the early days on the bus. “It’s nice to be outside, want to enjoy it while I can.” He shrugged.

The young woman’s smirk faded, “You’re going to get some rest though, right?”

May felt Phil shift.  “I’m fine.” He assured, voice tinged with a hint of warning.

Daisy arched an eyebrow, her concern clearly outweighing the impact of his tone.  The two spent a protracted moment staring at one another until she relented, “Alright, well. Good night guys.  May, I know you said we should start a training schedule again but seriously; we have the opportunity to sleep in tomorrow and I am _taking it._ ”

Phil snorted and May shouldered him with a roll of her eyes. 

The three agents in front of them shared a look but before May could question it, Jemma smiled broadly, “Well, Fitz, _husband_ , I think it’s time for us to turn in.”

“What? Uh, yes…” A blush crept up his neck and Fitz swallowed before he looked back, nodding and extending a hand to Couslon, “Sir.”

“Good job, Fitz.” Phil accepted the hand shake, holding on a beat while sharing a silent moment.

Daisy hesitated, waiting behind as FitzSimmons departed.

She pulled at her fingers, “Okay, well, I’m going to go now…too.”

“Okay.” Phil smiled gently at her, “Have a good night.”

 “Yeah…” Daisy nodded, “You too.” She bit her lip, “May, maybe we can talk…more…tomorrow?”  Her eyes shifted to Phil and May had a feeling that she knew what the young woman wanted to discuss.

“Tomorrow.” She affirmed with a nod, ignoring the glare from Phil.

With another beat of hesitancy, weight shifting, Daisy’s eyes darted between the two, “Okay.  Well…good night.  Careful with the…” She made a vague gesture to the landscape around them, “Y’know, fear forest.”

“Will do.” Phil assured with no indication of moving.

After another moment’s stalling, Daisy stepped away, and into the elevator, leaving the May and Phil alone.

He leaned back, closing his eyes and exhaling, his shoulders dropping as he released some unknown pressure.  “Crazy, huh?”

Her brows knit, “Phil, you’re going to have to be _a lot_ more specific.”

He chuckled, eyes opening and looking back at her with a softness she hadn’t seen in a while.  “FitzSimmons are now, actually, _finally_ , FitzSimmons.”

May rolled her eyes, pulling up her leg and leaning forward against her thigh, “Of everything we’ve seen, that may be one of the least crazy things that’s come to pass.”

“I just keep thinking to where we started.” He inhaled deep, “Those two were so…” His jaw shifted, “Different.”

“We all were.” May countered, resting her head on her knee, tilted so she could see him, “Daisy wasn’t even Daisy.”

“And you barely spoke.” Phil smirked, “And kept calling me Sir.”

“ _Someone_ needed to demonstrate some discipline on that plane.” She huffed, a smile on her face as her eyes traced over him, cataloging the differences. “You wore a suit every damn day. Didn’t matter if we were at the Hub or you were storming a beach.”

His eyebrows bounced, “I miss my suits.” His tone was teasingly petulant but the truth of the sentiment was plain.

“You had some nice ones.” May agreed. 

Phil had always been fastidious.  It wasn’t a surprise that it took something as extreme as time travel and the end of the world for him to relax his personal appearance standards while everyone else had taken to t-shirts and beards years prior.

She looked out over the distance, thinking back to the things they had once taken for granted. “I miss my gym equipment.”

He smirked, “I miss my collectibles.”

“I miss you being the kind of guy who _had_ collectibles.”

The words were out of her mouth without thought and she froze as soon as she heard herself; eyes closing in self-recrimination.

She expected Phil to stiffen, to demand she explain her meaning. Instead she heard a long exhale and a quiet, “Yeah.”

She blinked her eyes open, dropping her leg back down and twisting to look at him fully.  His eyes were downcast, fingers fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket.  “It’s been a while, eh?” 

When he looked up, it was an attempted smirk but there was nothing light about it.

She shifted through her memories, of all the iterations of Phil through the years.  There was one, fleeting… “Do you remember when Mace asked you to play tour guide for the group from Congress?”

Phil snorted, “Yeah. That was embarrassing.”

“It was cute.” She defended automatically.

This time Phil did stiffen, brow furrowed, “What?”

She rolled her eyes, “You. Getting all… _you_ about the SSR and Peggy Carter and dates and trivia.” She shrugged, “It’s cute.”

“I thought it annoyed you.” He frowned.

May smirked, “Something can be two things.”

He stared back at her for a long moment, a small twitch at the corner of his eye, before he cleared his throat and smirked, “Well, in that case; did you know that leader of Project Reclamation and creator of our lovely new base, Rick Stoner, served in World War 2 under Chester Phillips?  After leaving the army Stoner originally went to the CIA but Phillips enticed him to join SHIELD.”

May stared at him for a long moment, shaking her head in amused disbelief “ _How_ do you possibly know that?”

“Read about it.  Did some archive digging after we got back from St. Louis.” He shrugged, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“After everything we did without taking a break, you couldn’t sleep?” She straightened, dropping the light tone, “Because…?” Her eyes flicked to his chest.

 Phil just looked back at her, not acknowledging the unasked question.

She clenched her teeth, “I’m serious Phil; you need to be honest with me about this.” Her eyes bore into him, “I know you don’t like admitting when you hurt but it’s not just about you; it’s about this whole team.”

She swallowed around a tight lump in her throat, “You _collapsed_ today _._ What if that had been when we were in the lab in St Louis?  From here on out I need to know your status before we take on a mission; no more telling me ‘It’s just a headache’ when you know it’s not.”

He averted his eyes, visibly discomforted.

She shifted closer to him, “I know you don’t want to be a burden, but the best way you can protect us is by being honest.”

“You going to bench me again?” He scowled.

“If I have to.” May didn’t hesitate and his eyes shot back up to hers.  She sighed, softening, “Phil…part of what made today so scary for _me_ was not knowing what was going on with _you_.  I’m just saying: you’re not in this alone.”

Phil gave a short, subtle nod; jaw clenching and releasing. “Okay.”

“Okay.” May swallowed everything else she wanted to say.  There would be more time and it wasn’t like she even knew how best to put it all into words.  Having some semblance of an understanding, an agreement for honesty would be enough for now.

It was evident the exchange had provided Phil no such solace.  Sitting next to her, his shoulders were bowed, fingers twitching together in his lap, the weight of his conscience and lack of sleep evident.

A compulsion to try to offer comfort pulled at her as her own exhaustion demanded attention.  Acting without thought, she shifted her position, pulling herself flush alongside Phil and allowing her head to come down to rest on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

He froze under her cheek, she had caught him off guard.  She opened her eyes and tilted, so she could look him in the face without moving away.  “I told you; I get to decide who I waste my time with.”

He blinked dumbly at her, the confusion in his eyes giving way to disbelief and then gratitude.  Minutely she felt him relax under her cheek and then his hand came up, encircling her shoulders and resting on her forearm, his chin lowering to the crown of her head.

She pulled up a hand, resting it on his chest, in front of her face, feeling the steady thrum of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath.

The sun had set and the sound of the waterfall was joined by the chirps of crickets.  Her leg was stiffening but May felt no inclination to shift from her position, and neither, did it seem, did her companion.

“So. Now what?” He asked, voice thick and uncertain.

“We waste some time.” She looked up, “And tomorrow we get back to work.”


End file.
